


newt geiszler: intergalactic diplomat and xenobiologist extraordinaire!

by buckgaybarnes



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Absurd Science Fiction Porn, Enthusiastic Consent, General Ridiculousness......In Space!, M/M, Other, Pulp Science Fiction, Sexy Alien Hermann, Sexy Alien Plants, Sexy Scientist Newt, Tentacle Dick, Tentacles, Xenophilia, on two separate occasions i should clarify
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 12:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckgaybarnes/pseuds/buckgaybarnes
Summary: Newt has some sexy romps in space with a very interesting plant and an even more interesting alien. It's all part of a day's work.(or: newt gets his barbarella on)





	newt geiszler: intergalactic diplomat and xenobiologist extraordinaire!

**Author's Note:**

> so!! [gambriz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gambriz/pseuds/gambriz) posted her bit for a certain sexy scientist au, so i decided to post mine that i've had sitting in my docs for two months or so after originally sharing on twitter. was originally gonna make a side account to post it (for, you know, obvious reasons) but, tragically, i love attention, so my main one it is. i did also have a lot of fun writing this--i love cliche fun sci fi porn
> 
> was trying to link the art that inspired this/the art this inspired but, even more tragically, links don't seem to want to work for private twits, so (since they requested i link to their nsfw twitter as well and not main!) find the art and more for their au @waowoowa (if you're 18+!)

Newt likes this little planet.

He’s meant to be on a regular mission with his team—investigating native flora, collecting dirt samples, searching for a water source—but everything is so beautiful he gets easily distracted. The atmosphere is breathable without a helmet, the grass is a vibrant blue that sways without a breeze, and the sky is a shade of pink and completely cloudless. Even better are the plants: strange purple trees, delicate flowers that drift through the air like butterflies, multi-colored fruits that are so completely unlike anything from Earth. He gets so caught up in collecting the little flowers in the air as samples (and also for the sheer factor of them being _cool_ ) that it’s not until he’s in the middle of a forest of the purple trees that he realizes he has no idea where he is or where his team is. Oh well. Science waits for no one.

There’s an innocuous little plant resting in the middle of a clearing—small, leafy, and the same purple as the trees—and Newt approaches it curiously. He bends down to get a little closer and lifts his hand towards it, not quite touching, and the plant seems to twitch in his direction. Weird. “Huh,” Newt muses. He pulls his recorder out of his side holster and clicks it on. “Dr. Geiszler’s log,” he says into it, with exaggerated dramatic flair, “I haven’t seen anything like this plant before. It’s like it’s—radiating heat, or something. I probably shouldn’t touch it.” The plant is just sitting there perfectly innocently, though, and it’s a nice color, and it looks like it’d be very soft. “I’m gonna touch it,” he declares, and brushes his finger along one of its four broad, rounded leaves.

Almost instantly, the leaves unfurl and a long, thick vine shoots out, winding itself around Newt’s wrist. He jerks back in surprise, dropping the recorder, and another one shoots out and ensnares his other wrist. “Okay, bad idea, _bad_ idea,” he says, giving a futile tug at his binds, and raises his voice so his recorder picks it up, “note to future me: maybe don’t touch weird plants?” Two more vines wrap around his ankles, up his calves, and drag him down until he’s sprawled out on the ground, and his blaster flies out of his other holster and lands some feet away. If he could reach it—but, then again, it’s not as if Newt’s actually ever _used_ it. He’s always been much more...diplomatic when it comes to dealing with alien life.

“Hi,” he tries, “do you—uh, do you feel like letting me go?” Another vine comes out and hovers near his face, and then curiously strokes his cheek, and then at his mouth. Newt wrinkles his nose; this one is exuding some sort of pinkish, sweet-smelling slime. Almost flowery, like a perfume. The vine trails down his chin, then neck, past the small white cloth that covers his upper chest and rubs curiously at his abdomen. Newt squirms, and the vines around his wrists tighten. It’s not—unpleasant. The opposite, actually. Newt might go as far as to say he  _likes_ it. “What are you—?”

As suddenly as the first time, three more vines—all covered in the slime this time—shoot from the leaves and wrap around Newt’s waist, his thighs, and then more come out and wrap around his arms, and then Newt’s being hoisted up into the air over the plant. “Okay,” Newt says, voice high, “okay, so not letting me go, then.” The vine around his abdomen wriggles itself just down past the front of his tiny shorts, teasing under the waistband at the skin there. “Oh,” he gasps, closing his eyes, waiting, and—

—and nothing. They just hold him there, suspended, exploring Newt’s exposed skin gently while blood rushes further down south to his erection. He feels a twinge of disappointment—of the scientific sort, of course, a hypothesis of behavior being disproved—and he tugs at the vines again, impatiently. “Are you not gonna—?” It’s almost as though they’d been waiting for his vocal approval; the vine at Newt’s waistband yanks his shorts down to his knees and the ones around his thighs wrench his legs apart, leaving him completely exposed and open. Another one wraps around his dick while another one—thick with the slime—starts prodding curiously at his entrance. Newt moans happily. This is turning out to be a _very_ stimulating collection of data.

The vine slides into him slowly, stretching him open, and thrusts shallowly a few times, and Newt bucks back against it. The vine around his cock squeezes its coils gently, lightly pulsing. Neither are giving Newt nearly as much stimulation as he wants. He squirms in their hold. “C’mon,” he begs, as the vine continues to fuck him lazily, “c’mon, go—” Newt’s legs are spread as far as they can with his shorts still bunched up, and the vine in him picks up speed and the one around his cock squeezes tighter. “ _Oh_ ,” he gasps again, “ _yes_ —” It fucks him harder, and harder, and then he feels another vine probing at his hole and it feels so _thick_ , and it slides up alongside the other and Newt whimpers, he’s not sure if he can— Another thick vine, the thickest one by far, flies up from the plant and tears through the fabric of Newt’s shorts easily, ripping them in two. They fall to the ground and Newt’s legs are spread _further_ as the two vines in his ass start pounding him in unison.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Newt cries, “oh _fuck_ , oh my _God_ —” Still more vines come out, wrapping around his body, stroking and rubbing him all over, and the vine around his cock starts jerking him through a mixture of slime and precome. It’s almost too intense. Newt wants— “More,” he says breathlessly, “oh—”

A smaller vine grazes his balls; another brushes at the soft, sensitive stretch of skin between them and his hole, rubbing lightly; another one—so _thin,_ so _slick_ —squeezes between the two fucking him and up, up, until it’s pressing on his prostate, and Newt wails through his release, coming all over the writhing vines. They fuck him through it, stroke his cock through it, and Newt trembles as the three slowly pull from his body. But they don’t appear to be finished with him; the one around his dick settles back in a gentle coil and the others continue stroking and playing with his body. Two more small ones slide up under the fabric of his top and rub his nipples. He’s so oversensitive every touch sends electric currents through him, makes him jerk and shudder.

“Okay,” he pants, “I need—” The vine that had ripped his shorts off of him, the one so thick it makes Newt’s mouth dry, slowly makes its way up to Newt’s ass. It pats the skin in a way that’s comically friendly, leaving slime behind. Newt can’t think of anything besides how much he wants it in him. “ _Please_ ,” he moans, and—unlike the others, how slowly they’d started—it immediately starts pumping in and out of Newt’s hole, making his whole body shake with each hard thrust into him, and it’s so big it hurts but Newt just wants _more_ , and he whimpers and cries and begs for it faster, and it gives it to him faster.

He comes again, maybe another time after that. He’s distantly aware that the vines, eventually, lower him to the ground and recede back inside the plant with more friendly little pats. Pats goodbye, this time. Chest heaving, clothing—that hasn’t been ripped apart—ruined by slime and come, and in a state of utter bliss, Newt dozes off on the strange, swaying electric blue grass.

* * *

He wakes up who knows how long later in a small, white-walled room with chrome floors, something that is most assuredly _not_ his team’s spaceship. There’s no furniture except for the small slab-like bed he’s laying on, and a little chair resting to the side. The first surprising thing is that the lighting isn’t fluorescent, like Newt would expect a strange alien ship to have (he’s assuming that’s where he is), but something softer and warm. The second surprising thing is that Newt is completely naked. The third and final surprising thing is that there’s someone in the chair, and he’s staring _very_ intently at Newt.

Newt isn’t shy by _any_ means, but he wishes he at least had a blanket or something to cover himself with. Good first impressions and everything.

“Uh,” Newt says, sitting up a bit. He winces; one thing that’s not surprising is how _sore_ he is. Totally worth it, though. “Hi. Where am I?”

“We were on a scouting mission and found you unconscious,” the alien says, prim and posh. He’s humanoid, just as much as Newt, but a bit too stiff, pale in a way that’s silvery, with dark hair, an angular face, and uniformly grey clothing. Some type of android, maybe? He’s got a walking aid propped up against the side of his chair, however, and Newt can’t recall the last time he encountered an android who needed one of those, so maybe not. Regardless—Newt can’t help but think he’s cute. “We brought you up to our ship to examine you,” the alien continues. Irritation flickers across his face. “We have no medical doctors, so _I_ got put in charge of you.”

“Oh.” Newt gives a smile. “Thanks. You know, I’m a doctor, too. A doctor who’s not a medical one too, I mean.”

“So we gathered,” the alien says, still irritated. “We found your log. Along with your—”

“Clothes?” Newt says, suddenly recalling his nudity. He’d like a blanket very much right now, actually, if not just so he can hide his physiological reaction to this strangely attractive alien _thoroughly_ checking out his body.

“They’re unsalvageable. I have sent for replacements for you.” The alien’s eyes linger over his tattoos, and Newt’s face heats up. “I was not aware,” the alien continues, “humans could be so—decorated.” He reaches out and touches Newt’s tattooed chest carefully, so lightly Newt can barely feel it. For the second time that day, Newt is surprised by the warmth of something’s touch. His pulse jumps in his throat.

“I wasn't aware androids could be so human,” he jokes weakly, and the alien retreats.

“ _I,_ ” he sniffs, “am _not_ an android. Please do not compare me to your species either. My kind is _far_ more advanced than both combined.”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult!” Newt says quickly, kicking himself for being five seconds away from being felt up by a hot alien and not being able to keep his foot out of his mouth long enough to let it happen. “I promise.” The alien gives him a skeptical look, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave, so Newt pushes on. “To answer your question, we’re usually not. This is—ink. Kinda like, I painted myself, but it’s permanent. You can touch it, if you want.” _Please touch it._

The alien raises his hand to Newt’s chest again and runs his fingers across the lines of one of the monsters inked there. Newt’s breath hitches. “They’re smooth,” the alien comments, and then drags his fingers down to Newt’s midsection, still tracing down the lines. “They look—very good on you.”

“Thanks,” Newt says, heart pounding. Newt thinks he should probably be asking about getting a message to his team to let them know where he is and that he’s alive and all, but he—kind of wants to see how this plays out. “I’m Newt, by the way.”

The alien arches an eyebrow. “You referred to yourself as Dr. Geiszler in your logs.”

Newt waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I know, but everyone just calls me Newt.”

“Very well,” the alien says. He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Then you may call me Hermann.”

“Hermann,” Newt repeats, breaking out into a delighted grin. And then he blushes harder than he had the first time: how much of that log did Hermann and the rest of his crew listen to? He didn’t turn it off before the plant—well—and his device has an infinite storage space, so chances are it recorded the entire thing. And now it’s somewhere on this strange ship with his ruined clothing and his blaster, probably being examined by more of these strange not-quite-human aliens, putting him all out on display. Hermann certainly listened to some of it.

Hermann glances around the room, and then leans in a little bit. “Tell me,” Hermann says, lowering his voice, and curiosity lights up his eyes. “What was the plant doing to you to cause you to react in such a way? I’ve never heard noises like that before.” Hermann definitely listened to all of it, then; he can also blush, apparently, and he’s doing it now, which makes him all the more endearing.

“Oh. Uh. I was having. You know. With it.”

“I don’t know,” Hermann says.

Newt looks up at the chrome ceiling. “Sex,” he says.

Hermann hums. “Interesting,” he says. He doesn’t look scandalized or anything. Still just curious. He also has yet to stop stroking Newt’s chest. “I am aware your species still...mates, and uses sexual intercourse to reproduce—”

Newt can’t suppress the xenobiologist in himself. “Yours doesn’t?” he blurts out, and then cringes, sure the alien will become offended at invasive questions about his _reproduction_ methods of all things and stop touching Newt for good this time.

Hermann doesn’t, though. He looks a little—fond, actually. Fond of Newt? “No,” he says. “We prefer more artificial means: creating our young in our labs from cloned cells. I have none, of _course_ , but—” Newt hopes that’s alien speak for _I’m single_. Hermann suddenly looks very flustered. “I was not aware you engaged in it outside of reproduction.”

“You mean, like,” Newt says softly, “for pleasure?” He brings his hand up to cover Hermann’s and keep it in place, and a bit of Hermann’s stiff facade cracks. His eyes sweep over Newt’s naked body again, settling on Newt’s halfway-there erection, and color rises even more fiercely to Hermann’s cheeks.

“Yes,” Hermann says, just as quietly. He swallows. “You are a very appealing human, Newt. Your scientific logs show you are quite intelligent. I found the one on the plant to be most—enlightening. I would like,” Hermann’s hand twitches under Newt’s palm, “to experience—”

Newt, never one to turn down an opportunity for scientific discovery _or_ helping to boost diplomatic relations with another species, leans in and kisses him. “This?” he says, sliding one of his hands up to cup Hermann’s jaw. Hermann makes a small noise of assent and Newt kisses him again, and again; Hermann does nothing but sit there and let him at first, tense and awkward, but soon he’s kissing back clumsily, and when Newt coaxes his mouth open and slips his tongue inside Hermann grabs onto his waist.

“Newt,” he breathes, and Newt could get used to the sound of _that_ , “do that again.”

Newt laughs happily and does, sliding his tongue against Hermann’s, and Hermann squeezes at his sides—Newt was embarrassed about all his softness being put on display, but Hermann seems to like it—and groans. They kiss for a while longer, Newt stroking at Hermann’s angular cheeks with his thumbs, Hermann’s hands roving his body all over but never where Newt so badly wants him to touch. Finally, Newt pulls away to catch his breath. Hermann looks dazed. “Thank you,” he says. “That was—also very enlightening.”

“That was just the _beginning_ , Hermann,” Newt says with a grin. He scoots up until he’s kneeling on the edge. “Here, lie on the bed. I’m gonna show you _so_ much more. But first…” He plucks at the top few buttons of Hermann’s boring grey tunic-thing and plants a few little kisses along his throat. Hermann follows his lead eagerly, quickly undoing the rest of his buttons and then the top of his pants. Newt sits back again and waits patiently for Hermann to strip everything off, and then fold it all neatly and set it down on the spotless ground. Newt checks his body out eagerly: still humanoid, still sharp and angular, skin still with that oddly lovely silvery glow, but he has a nice trail of dark hair that leads down to an equally nice-looking— _tentacle_? It’s the same vague silvery color as Hermann’s skin, and of a _very_ pleasing girth and length.

Newt isn’t disappointed with it by any means.

How differently does it work from Newt’s, or any other human’s, dick? Does it even work like a dick? The more Newt studies it, the more it seems to stiffen, so maybe not it’s not that different at all. The thought of performing even more hands-on experiments today excites him so much he nearly jumps off the slab bed so he can help Hermann lie down in his place.

He kneels between Hermann’s legs and smiles down at him. Hermann starts stroking Newt’s hips. “You’re very _appealing_ too, you know,” Newt says. He settles himself on top of Hermann and kisses him again. Hermann is wonderful to kiss, really, and that’s just as exciting; he kisses so _enthusiastically_ and eagerly that Newt can’t help but be just as enthusiastic and eager in return. He wishes he could let Hermann fuck him—because, _wow_ , would that be hot—but he _is_ pretty sore from that plant and he highly doubts Hermann brought anything they could use as lube (although, maybe it’s like the plant, and—no, not right now). Next time, then. The thought of there _being_ a next time just makes him kiss Hermann and rub his body against his all the more eagerly.

Soon enough he feels a hardness poking deliberately at his thigh. Hermann looks embarrassed.

“It does work the same!” Newt exclaims delightedly. He nips at Hermann’s lip in parting and then inches down Hermann’s body until he’s face to face with the—tentacle thing. It sways towards him. It feels weird to describe it as _cute_ , but—no, that’s definitely a weird thing to think. Sexy, then, and would be even sexier inside Newt. But, he doesn’t want to overwhelm Hermann for his first everything, so instead he just licks a line up it. Hermann nearly shouts and it hits Newt in the cheek. “Sorry!” Newt says. “I should’ve warned you. Did that—?”

“Do that again,” Hermann says again, and Newt licks back down, and then back up, contemplating it all the while. He could probably get it all in his mouth if he tried and totally blow Hermann’s mind. So he does try. Hermann makes several high, breathy noises as Newt takes him further into his mouth, all the way down to where his tentacle-dick-thing is the thickest and it hurts to stretch his mouth open any more. Newt hums as he suckles on him, and keeps an eye on Hermann’s reactions; Hermann is gazing down at him with parted lips, his chest rising and falling quickly, almost like he can’t believe this is happening. “Newt,” he says, voice broken, and he twitches on Newt’s tongue, “Oh, Newt—”

Newt only has to move up and down a few times on Hermann’s—calling it a _tentacle thing_ isn’t super sexy, so tentacle dick has to do—and keep sucking before Hermann’s grabbing frantically at his hair and Newt’s swallowing down a mouthful of something sweet. (Dr. Geiszler’s log: Hermann is not only hot with an awesome dick, but his jizz is a totally cool consistency too.) Hermann goes limp in his mouth and Newt pulls off. Newt’s smiling way too much today, but something about this strange alien just brings it out of him and he can’t help but do it some more.

He settles himself back on top of Hermann, listening Hermann’s heart beat wildly. Newt’s _very_ hard, but he doesn’t mind waiting to see what Hermann wants to do next. Finally, Hermann speaks. “My original assessment of you was correct,” he pants. “You _are_ a very appealing human. I would very much like to keep you around.”

Newt kisses his neck. “I have _so_ much to teach you,” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> i have two more parts written for this that i probbbbably won't ever post here, lol, but my private nsfw twitter where i mostly tweet about explicit wips is [here](https://twitter.com/hermanngayszler) so IF you're 18+ (and have your age in your bio) you're welcome to follow and find there!


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